


Why On Earth Should I Moan

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Series: Rare Ships on Bingo [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Shifter!Masumi, Supernatural Crossover, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: After a hookup with Sam Winchester, Christophe found himself skeptical that hunting could give him such better stamina than a professional athlete.  Masumi draws on Sam's memories of John Winchester's training to show him just how wrong he is.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti/Christophe Giacometti's Boyfriend
Series: Rare Ships on Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867507
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: Rare Ships!!! on BINGO 2020





	Why On Earth Should I Moan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Working Out  
> Pairing: Christophe Giacometti/Christophe Giacometti’s Boyfriend
> 
> Masumi is a shifter, who was gifted DNA from Sam to escape overzealous hunters who didn't care that Masumi was only a child and just wanted to live his life. Much later, he and Christophe ran into Sam, and things went the way one would expect when Christophe Giacometti is presented with, essentially, a clone of his boyfriend. :D

Christophe dropped to the ground, one arm over his eyes with the other sprawled off to one side, chest heaving as he tried to force the oxygen he knew had to be out there to get into his lungs. Masumi laid down with him, breathing only a little harder than normal as he laid his head on Christophe’s legs. “Ready to call it a day, Chris?”

He was, but he was never going to admit to it. They’d started at five, up at dawn for a ten-mile run. Bit longer than Christophe usually did, but a run hadn’t sounded so bad. Then he realized that Masumi meant, literally, a run. Not a jog. Also, unlike Christophe’s usual routes, this would be on uneven terrain, through woods and hills and going through creeks. Not on roads with gentle slopes and solid footing.

After the run, it was digging. Two meters down, two and a half long, only to fill it back in and make it as inconspicuous as possible when it was finished. Masumi promised that this was a very important exercise, possibly the most important one of the day, but Christophe refused to believe this was more important than running.

Then it was off to the woods again, where Christophe was pointed to several different trees and told to climb as high as he could in them. “If we were doing this right, I’d make you choose the trees, but you don’t have the background you would have, so I’ll spot you the information.” Once up there, Masumi demanded a scouting report. He guided Christophe through with questions about specific things he wanted to know, but it was not the rest Christophe had hoped for as he braced himself against the tree and looked around for the answers.

Christophe stared at the gun Masumi put in his hand. “You know I have no idea what to do with this, don’t you?”

“Which is why you’re just going to shoot a few rounds and do your best, instead of being held to the appropriate standards of not quitting until you’ve hit ten bulls-eyes,” Masumi said. “Here. Let me show you how to get started.” He wrapped his arms around Christophe as he showed him how to hold the gun, how to aim, and pulled the trigger for the first shot so Christophe could feel the recoil. “You’ve got fourteen more rounds.”

“What happened if you ran out of bullets before you got the ten bulls-eyes?” Christophe had to ask, even though he knew he probably didn’t want to know.

“Don’t worry about it, it won’t happen to you. I don’t care if you don’t hit a single target, just fire and don’t hit your own foot, or me.” Masumi kissed Christophe’s cheek and stepped away, letting Christophe shoot. It wasn’t terrible, Christophe at least managed to hit the target all but twice, but no bulls-eyes. “Great! Next: we get a rest period.”

“Seriously?” Christophe grinned at Masumi.

Masumi shrugged. “This is where John would give out whatever punishments he felt his boys deserved for failure to meet expectations. In the rare event they managed to do everything right, then he gave them a book and told them to get reading. Since the only expectation for you is that you give today your best try, you don’t get punished, and I brought a book if you really want but without John standing over us supervising we don’t have to read. We can go straight to lunch.”

“Were the books actually homework cleverly disguised?” Christophe asked as he reached into his backpack. He was not surprised that the lunch he pulled out was unlikely to be what their nutritionist would have recommended. The sandwich was fine, but potato chips and peanuts? Beer? “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I know, but John Winchester. Dean switched from soda to beer when he was about nine, but Sam didn’t until he was fourteen or so. At least they had plenty of water to offset all the salt and alcohol?” Masumi cracked open his own beer. “If either boy didn’t make their bulls-eyes, the other one could try to cover for them if he had any rounds left. John only checked for twenty bulls-eyes and leftover rounds. And no, the books weren’t meant as homework. The boys got to choose them themselves. Sam would sometimes bring actual homework, or something educational, but he’d sometimes bring Harry Potter or Animorphs or something else light. Dean would usually bring Vonnegut or Tolkien or a Star Wars novel. Of course, it depended what they could find at a library or a thrift store or steal from somewhere.”

That sounded right to Christophe. “And if John wasn’t around to supervise?”

“They might still read, depending on what they’d brought, or Dean might head out to get off, or they might play some kind of game or tell each other bad jokes or whatever else they felt like doing that wouldn’t mean they weren’t rested enough for the back half of the day and either didn’t need to bring something for or thought they could smuggle stuff for past John. Bringing a deck of cards and playing poker the whole time, for example. For a while, Sam had a Game Boy he’d been given by a classmate.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Eat lunch and get some rest.” Masumi winked at Christophe’s disappointed look. “Don’t worry, I have plans to take care of you. You’ll see.”

That plan turned out to be a substitution activity for after their lunch break. “Sam and Dean would have sparring, brawling, wrestling, or some mix of the three. Even as a kid, Sam was more of a match for Dean than you are for me, so I thought we’d go with something a bit more fair to you and a lot more fun for both of us.”

“What do you mean I’m no match for you?” Christophe pouted. “You think I can’t fight?”

“I think you haven’t ever had to fight for your life, and you have human limitations I don’t. Sam spent his entire childhood training against someone bigger, stronger, and faster than him.” Masumi nudged Christophe. “Besides, if you’re seriously saying you’d rather fight than fuck, I may have to draw the silver.”

Masumi did have a point, there. Easily the best part of the day, that turned out to be. Then it was another long run, fifteen miles this time, followed by stretching and more tree climbing. Then it was finding a lake. “You can’t seriously mean for us go in there dressed like this,” Christophe protested.

“Monsters don’t care whether you brought your swimsuit, Christophe,” Masumi said. “But no. John would do it once in a while, but we’re going in there wearing much less. After all, if you did have time to strip down, you should do it. Dry clothes are much better for getting warm in after you come out of the water.”

Cold water didn’t bother Christophe at all, but even so, he was grateful for the dry clothes to put on when they got out and he remembered he wasn’t going to be getting into a hotel shower and fluffy bathrobe, or into bed, for hours yet. 

“Time for another break. This one, we are doing the official John Winchester way.” He pointed to a boat that had some fishing rods in it. “Except for one thing, I suppose. We’re not borrowing from unsuspecting people, we’re borrowing from my uncle.”

Fishing and fire-starting were a nice break, but by the time the fish were cooked and Christophe was starting to wonder what was next, soreness was starting to settle in. Thankfully, the only thing Masumi had left for them was one last run. Flopping down back at the car felt so good. Christophe never wanted to move again. “And after this, they might end up sleeping in the car? Not a hotel?”

“Even if they did go to a hotel, it wouldn’t be a good one, and either the boys shared a bed or at least one slept on the floor, depending on what they could afford,” Masumi confirmed. “I trust I will never hear you question where Sam Winchester got his stamina ever again?”

“Never. Think we’ll be able to get him to come demonstrate it again?”

Masumi grinned and patted Christophe’s shoulder. “Of course we will.”


End file.
